


Starlight on Steel

by BrightBlackLight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ancient History, Blood and Gore, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Forbidden Love, Heartbreak, Implied Sexual Content, Kings & Queens, Swords
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 09:57:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20544269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightBlackLight/pseuds/BrightBlackLight
Summary: “No...” Natasha panicked at the thought of the thought of being trapped in the palace for the rest of her life, bound to the king and his court; the people who she hated most in this world. She couldn’t imagine the torture it would be. “You’ll regret this, you bastard!”Steve watched her go and shivered. There was real murder in those emerald eyes of hers.In which Steve is a king, Natasha is a thief. She joins his Guard, and things happen.





	1. Royals

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Any mistakes are mine and I apologise for them, I don’t own the characters. I don’t know if I will continue this- it was supposed to be a one-shot but this happened so...

There was blood on the exquisite royal blue carpet.

The thief, it seemed, was enjoying ruining the throne room to take revenge for what the soldiers did to her.

“Is this she?” A voice from the end of the dimly lit hall.

“Yes, your majesty.” A soldier dragged a young woman toward the voice, her hands bound in chains, an angry cut down the side of her neck, running into her collarbone, and bright green eyes that glowed slyly.

The woman let out an ‘oof’ as she was tossed at the king’s feet. She hunched her shoulders and her long red hair curtained her face. 

Steve Rogers, the King of Ocrya, sat before her. He was twenty years old, one of the youngest kings to have ever ruled Ocrya, only crowed a few months ago. He was serious but kind, and loved by all the common people.

Guards stood on either side of his throne, silent and observing. A small golden crown sat on the king’s head and his blond hair shone under the candlelight as he rose. “Thank you,” he said to the soldier. He turned to the woman. “What’s your name?” 

Steve made out her eyes through her matted hair covering her face. “Natasha,” She answered.

Natasha. She was a foreigner. “Do you know why you are here?”

The corners of her mouth turned up. She did not answer.

“You are the most famous thief in the capital,” Steve continued. He waved a hand and a soldier passed him a scroll of paper. “Robberies of half the shops in the city, attempted robbery of the bank, I think there was even a few murders. And you were part of the association that organised the explosion to kill my father, were you not?” He stepped closer to her and peered down. She was young, Steve realised, just like him. Perhaps no older than eighteen.

“You can torture me but I won’t break like that coward Caeron did.” She said quietly. 

“I had to say it was very dishonourable of him to talk. But he did give us some very valuable information. All your friends were hunted down and-“

“Stop,” she whispered. “What do you want with me?”

“You got away,” Steve mused. “You were the only one that survived my soldiers. Just like you did a hundred times before. How did you do it?”

She stayed silent.

“Well, you caught me this time,” she sneered. They did. Steve has his soldiers surround her right in the middle of the street. Nobody was supposed to know who she was, but he did.

“We’ve been looking for you for weeks now. You’re an extremely hard person to find, let alone recognise. The Black Widow, they call you. No one knows who you are. You’re really good,”

There was a pool of lava that rages inside her body. She was enraged at his compliments and his calmness.

“The law demands execution,” Steve kneeled down in front of her, and his guards stepped in a little closer. 

“Kill me,” she said, “before I strangle you with my chains.” 

His guards grabbed her by the arms and hauled her away from the king. Natasha hissed in pain as her neck leaked more blood. 

“Stand down,” Steve ordered, and the guards loosened their grips, but keeping a firm hand on their swords.

“You can watch that mouth of yours. I can prevent your death.”

“No one can escape death when the time comes,” Natasha tilted her head up and looked him dead in the eye. She mouthed, not even you! Steve narrowed his bright blue eyes and continued. 

“I would like your service,” he said.

Natasha smiled. “I’m sure there are other noblewomen who would be happy to warm your bed,”

“I meant your skills as a thief. Your stealth. Your intelligence. You join my Guard, and I let you live.”

Natasha chuckled. “You’ll have to pay for that,” 

“And I will,” the king replied cooly. She blinked and looked surprised.

“I don’t work for filthy royals and help build their corrupt empires.” She spat, “I refuse your offer.”

“It wasn’t an offer. It was a command.”

Natasha looked at him with hateful eyes.

“See to it that the new member of the Guard is shown to her room, if you will.” Steve said to his guards. “Make sure she doesn’t have any weapons. I’ll send someone to get you if needed.”

“No...” Natasha panicked at the thought of being trapped in the palace for the rest of her life, bound to the king and his court; the people she hated most in this world. She couldn’t imagine the torture it would be. “No!” She struggled and kicked as the guards dragged her away once more. She felt helpless, her neck searing in pain and blood running down the side of her breasts.“Fuck you!” She hissed. “You’ll regret this, you bastard!” 

Steve watched her go and shivered. There was real murder in those emerald eyes of hers.


	2. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for any mistakes.
> 
> I do not own the characters.

Natasha has never had a luxurious life. Both her parents had died by the time she was fifteen, killed by Steve’s father. He was cruel and cold. Her parents were protesting with two dozen other villagers against the late king and his violence, and so he killed them all. A very ironic death.

She had been rouge around the city ever since. She heard of an organisation planning to assassinate the king, so she joined them. Lots of planning, meetings, and smugglings later, the late king Joseph II was killed by an explosion in the back gardens of the palace. There was still massive hole etched into the grass were fire had burned for five days.

Natasha looked around her room; rectangular, with a semicircle shaped balcony attached to one side. It had a bed, desk, wardrobe, mirror, a set of drawers and a bathroom with a wooden tub and toilet. All were small, but fully adequate.

“The king will call for you tomorrow morning. Don’t try to escape unless you have a death wish.” A guard told her. He was not the soldier who dragged her here. He had gentle, kind eyes and did not look at her disgustedly like the other soldiers did. “If you need anything or are about to die, yell for me. I’m Clint, by the way,”

“Thanks…” Natasha mumbled as he closed the door, leaving her alone in the room.

She caught her reflection in the mirror hanging beside the wardrobe. Natasha might have once been beautiful, but after years of hiding, her eyes were haunted and ringed with dark circles, her face was dirty and she was skinnier than she would have liked. Gods, her hair. It was messy and covered in blood, from the two guards she killed in the attempt to catch her. The blood dried and made her bright red hair turn into a dull coppery colour. 

She walked into the bathroom and turned in the tap. The luxury of a bath was something she didn’t had often. She stripped off her torn tunic and pants, leaving them on the floor as she stepped into the tub. The warm water enveloped her like a blanket. There was a bar of soap and a towel on the shelf beside her, and she spent the next twenty minutes scrubbing herself free of two weeks’ worth of dirt and blood. The water was swirling with brown when she stepped out. She drained the water and dried herself. Damn the palace and it’s plumbing systems. Natasha walked back to the main room and opened the wardrobe. Inside were some white linen, underwear and practical clothes. She took out a dark green long sleeved shirt and a pair of leather pants.

Natasha did not want to admit she was impressed, but she couldn’t deny it; this was great. She wouldn’t need to worry about food or shelter for at least a few days, and she had clean clothes. The price for this was to work for the damned king and his court for gods knew how long.

She would find some way out of this.

Whether by escape or getting killed, she didn’t know.

She put on her pants and ran her fingers down the leather. It was real. Warm and reinforcing the weakest points of human legs. It was the most expensive thing she’d ever worn.

Her quiet train of thought was disturbed by her door swinging open.

Natasha gasped and turned. Her hair flying over her shoulders.

The king was now standing at the door of her room.

She had no shirt on.

“Oh my fucking…” She started, for two heartbeats they stood frozen, looking at each other, before Natasha quickly turned around and tossed the shirt over her head she could hear the young king spluttering behind her, apologising. The corners of her mouth lifted. She almost felt sorry for him. 

“I know I’m a criminal but can you give me some privacy? Gods,” she sighed. Steve’s face was bright red. Yep, she definitely felt sorry for him.

“I-I’m sorry…” he mumbled. 

She never thought a king could look so…flustered.

“Why are you here?” 

“I just wanted to check how you were doing. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s been an hour, I’m not going to collapse and die.”

“Still…I just want to know if you’re okay,” Steve took a step towards her. “You’ve met Clint?” 

“Yes,” 

“He’ll help you find your way around the palace, teach you about the Guard, stuff like that.” Another step closer. “Listen, I know you hate me, but I’m really glad you’re helping me.”

Why was he so kind? She looked into his ocean blue eyes. The were so blue. Like the sea surrounding Ocrya that she only got to see and never got to feel. Natasha could have drowned in those eyes. So blue…

She snapped her gaze away. “You should go,”

Perhaps it was extremely rude, but Steve just looked down and stepped back out of the door. Some other king’s might have killed her for speaking to them like that. Steve didn’t even care.

Maybe he wasn’t like his father at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	3. “Criminal”

Natasha was woken to the sound of banging on her door.

“Whatever you’re doing in there, you have five seconds to stop doing it, because we’re gonna come in!” Someone screamed.

Natasha sighed and rolled her eyes, then turned in her bed so her back was facing the door as it flung open.

Her blanket was thrown off her and she was dragged up roughly by cold-eyed servant girls who had years of experience of dealing with prisoners and knew how to deal with their bull.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked them as they dressed her in a high-collared black leather tunic and pants. If this was the uniform of the Guard, then the king had terrible style. 

They did not answer, and Natasha sighed. The oldest-looking servant turned to a pale, timid girl standing furthest away from Natasha. “Get the comb,” she hissed sharply.

The girl looked panicked and fumbled with the pile of supplies that had been left on the dressing table containing hairpins, accessories, and cosmetics. Natasha observed carefully. A weakness in this palace’s criminal treatment. Interesting.

“Stupid girl,” murmured the older servant, going over to get it herself.

After Natasha was dressed, the servants left. Clint came to her door. “Breakfast,” he said, gesturing for her to follow.

The royal dining room was in use for all times, but not for all people. The people who were not welcome were common soldiers, servants, and all sorts of others who did not live in the palace. Natasha knew she belonged with them, because she was a thief. It was only when Clint steered her into the dining room did she realise she was no longer a criminal, but a member of the king’s Guard. 

The king’s Guard was a group of highly regarded people who was hired to work for the king. They were basically in a position of power.

“Fuck this, I can’t.” She looked worriedly at Clint, who smiled.

“Why not?”

“Do you realise how foreign this is for me? I was basically a criminal a yesterday!” 

“You’ll be fine. They can’t do anything to you.” He sighed, “it’s just like comforting my nephew when he first went to school.”

“Can’t I just eat somewhere else?”

“It’s good for you to get to know the people you’ll be working with. Go.” He nudged her with his elbow.

“Wait, where are you going?” She asked.

“I’m a guard, I don’t eat here.” He smiled and disappeared.

Chatter and laughter drowned out the Natasha’s thoughts as she found a table that was occupied by the dozen of members of the Guard. She could feel eyes on her as she cross to the dining room to reach them.

She discreetly sat down on the edge of the large oak table that had been filled with platters of bread meat and different fruits. Some of the people turned to look at her. She felt like a child

“You new here?” A woman asked beside her. Natasha turned her head and looked surprisingly at the dark haired young woman.

“Yeah I am,“ Natasha grabbed a piece of bread and bit into it.

“Maria Hill,” She gestured to a man opposite , who, Natasha noticed, had a large scar on the side of his face. “This is my friend Sam,” he smiled and extended a hand.

She took it. “Natasha Ro-“ she stopped herself, aware that everyone at the table was listening.

Maria smiled, “Don’t worry. We’re all spies here. It’s second nature, but no one really cares.“

Natasha nodded. “How did you wind up here?”

“I was from a warm sunny country in the south before the late king invaded my country. I was working as a slave here for…how many months? I can’t remember. King Steve found my talents and invited me to join his Guard. 

Natasha looked at the sad smile on Maria’s face. She was not alone. 

“I was a thief.” Natasha said blankly. “He caught me.”

“The king?” Sam looked interestedly at her with kind eyes.

“That king,” Natasha pointed up at the two thrones at the very end of the dining room where the king sat with another woman, exchanging conversation with nobles surrounding them.

“Hm,” Sam murmured.

“And who the fuck is that?” 

“Betrothed. Foreign country princess. Sharon Carter. She has no relevance whatsoever to us, although she does enjoy insulting us and saying we’re not good enough.”

“She’s a goddamn bitch.” Sam added.

“She can get us all hung if she hears you insult her.” Maria hissed to him, “You may as well scream it to her face.

Natasha snorted and helped herself to some grapes. She noticed a man with black hair and cruel, cold eyes at the other end of the table staring at her. She felt uneasy. He looked like he could rip a person in two, and he wouldn’t do it for a good cause, either.

Maria put her hands on the table. “We always have training on weekdays until the afternoon. I hope you’re not totally useless.”

“What?” Natasha was startled. Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Training,” he said, “Like sparring, archery-’’

“Yeah, I know. But today? Right after this?”

“Yes,” they both replied.

Sam snapped his fingers, “Oh, and sometimes His majesty comes and watches. Or even trains with us,”

There was a thump as Natasha rested her forehead on the table and closed her eyes.

“You okay?” Maria asked.

“No.” Natasha wasn’t going to lie. Steve made her extremely uncomfortable. It didn’t help that he saw her half naked yesterday. And compared to these people sitting with her? She was no match for any of them at fighting.

She smiled into the table. It was going to be an interesting day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
